‘Obsession’ Is Everything You Ask For — And More

There’s no way to spoil the premise of Curry Barker’s big-time feature debut Obsession. He himself got it from The Simpsons’ “Treehouse of Horror” episode with the monkey’s paw, a parody in itself of countless Twilight Zone episodes. There’s even a Goosebumps book called Be Careful What You Wish For. There’s no shortage of Faustian bargains in horror. Inept protagonist Bear (Michael Johnston) can barely express his feelings to the lifelong friend he’s always secretly loved, Nikki (Inde Navarrette). He’s such a stammering sad-sack that he can’t even bring himself to say “yes” when she asks point blank if he’s into her. What he does manage to do is wish that she loved him more than anything in the world, before breaking a supernaturally enchanted toy called One Wish Willow in half. Does he get his wish? Does it snowball into a nightmare on earth? Does a Bear shit himself in the woods?

Obsession ★★★★ (4/5 stars)
Directed by: Curry Barker
Written by: Curry Barker
Starring: Michael Johnston, Inde Navarrette, Cooper Tomlinson, Megan Lawless, Andy Richter
Running time: 109 mins

Horror tropes always come down to how you use them, and Obsession updates your classic monkey’s paw fable for the age of Zach Cregger’s riotously funny and unpredictably gross masterpieces Barbarian and the now Oscar-anointed Weapons. Barker’s new feature may very well be in their class; Navarrette’s performance as the wish-possessed Nikki is a marvel of facial contortions and screeching Jekyll-and-Hyde meltdowns just like its obvious antecedent, Kathy Bates’ Annie Wilkes in Misery. One of the most terrifying shots in the entire thing is Nikki’s almond-shaped face forcing a distorted grin as she stands perfectly still, from the second her man exits for work until he returns home. Hervpissing on the floor is disturbingly only the start.

It’s not rocket science why Obsession works so fantastically well. The archetypes are simple but the characterizations aren’t. When the ugliest death in the movie is wrought upon a supporting character who’s neither angelic nor insufferable, it’s a genuine shock that doesn’t relent until they’re a bloody pulp (and that’s after the scene was trimmed to avoid an NC-17). The characters, emotionally stunted though they may be, act their age. Obsession is absolutely hilarious despite being as scary as any of recent vintage, with dusted-off types like the ominous magic shopkeeper and One Wish Willow’s customer service line operator giving him a “duh, didn’t you read all the warnings on the package” attitude, just enough meta to make the audience cackle even though they’d heard this one before. The gags would be bullseyes in a straight teen comedy, such as when Bear is doubled over puking at an unthinkable occurrence and waves it away as an “inside joke.” But there’s also the unexpected seriousness of the film’s allegorical portrayal of an abusive relationship in its own way.

Johnston’s Bear is perhaps oblivious for too long as to why Nikki can’t just “be normal” but he brings home a convincing portrayal of denial, certain that things won’t explode out of control again until they do. It’s to his credit that he’s just as inept at serving his own interests (he has to practice what he’ll say in a conversation no one should ever have to have about their pet), because any hint of malicious manipulation on his part would have sent this material into irreparably ugly territory about consent. Bear is a mess, trapped between his earnest desire for Nikki and the immediacy of having unwittingly thrust himself into a relationship that their friends can tell is toxic even without knowing how — though Navarrette reciting self-penned taboo erotica during a party game and physically moving a girl in her chair out of the way so she can be kissed elicits mortified stares from the entire gathering.

Her features are not ones you’d normally associate with a fatal attraction, so it’s extra impressive (and frightening) when Nikki turns psychotic on a dime.

Those moments are just as scary as any of the actual violence. And like Cregger’s films, the ending has a satisfying, tied-in-a-bow logic to it. It also leaves room for more, a good thing because you’ll want it.